


Death is like Cirque du Soleil

by transpapyrus



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Beetlejuice may or may not be a changed demon, Catharsis, Friendship, LYDIA IS AN ADULT, Post-Canon, There is LITERALLY no romance, Time Skips, Unrequited Crush, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 18:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18610273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transpapyrus/pseuds/transpapyrus
Summary: Five years have passed since Beetlejuice departed the home of the Maitlands and Deetzes. He has some things to set right, but Lydia has other plans. Beetlejuice is NOT happy about it. (Post-musical canon)Just a little story I wrote to basically flex on the part of the fandom that ships BTJ/Lydia. It pretty much started as a joke, then satire, and then actually got serious. See notes for more.





	Death is like Cirque du Soleil

**Author's Note:**

> As the summary says, I basically wrote this to contrast with all the Beetlejuice/Lydia fics. I support everyone's right to write and ship what they want freely, but I'm also not down with pedophilia or generally unbalanced or abusive ships - which is what that ship is. So what we've got here is Lydia, age 22, having some unresolved feelings for Beetlejuice, and everyone's favorite ghost shutting that down real fast. In the process, they actually talk through their shit like normal people.

Time moved.

Time was moving —

Time moves... differently, when you’re dead.

Is that not what Beetlejuice had been telling everyone, since… forever? A hundred years could be gone in the blink of an eye and you would have no idea. Usually it was more like falling asleep and losing a week, maybe a month. One step into the Netherworld could jolt you forward a year before you got your wits about you again.

Luckily, he hadn’t had to worry about that too much. Beetlejuice had always lived on the periphery of the realm of the living, experiencing the way their world worked, riding the waves of time with enough of a grip on reality that it was rare for him to lose track of what century it was. Perks of being a demon or whatever. 

Sometimes that was a good thing. Sometimes it really,  _ really _ wasn’t.

But  _ dying _ … now, dying was new. 

Those few moments of life where he had sucked in a breath from the musty old house, where it had smelled like roses in spring, those moments made everything else worth it. All of it. The pain, the torturing, the endless cycle of spooks and scares and violence and  _ death _ — all for the chance to be alive once again.

That had been ripped away from him too, but he wasn’t bitter.

At all.

Obviously.

Why would he be?

There was nothing to be angry about.

No one to blame.

Just himself, and his ego.

… And a girl named Lydia Deetz.

Okay yeah, he was a little bit peeved.

But he’d also had a lot of time to think on it. Just how long, he wasn’t sure. But it was enough. And Beetlejuice would never call it reprentence, because that’s not what he  _ did _ . He’s never been sorry about anything before, and he didn’t intend to start now. Being dead had always been boring, but now it was just depressing. God, he hated this. Being recently deceased was a lot worse than being permanently dead. And what was worse, he’d been stuck in the Netherworld for most of the time. And that had left him with a lot of time to think, unfortunately. 

Still, the Netherworld couldn’t really hold a ghost of his caliber. Recently deceased or not, he was still one-hundred percent bonafide demon. So after what he hoped wasn’t too terribly long, he was back out and about to wander the overworld alone until someone summoned him. 

At least he knew some people he could seek out for company. One good thing about being a ghost who was brought to life only to be killed? It made it a LOT harder to be exorcised. So even if the Maitlands and Deetzes didn’t want to talk to him, it wasn’t like he could take a foot to the ass that would send him flying back to the Netherworld. He would be safe, relatively, which was an odd thing to have to think about now. 

Actually, all that mentioned, he recalled experiencing another new feeling when he’d been alive, in the moment he had been run through the chest with a god awful piece of art.  _ Fear _ . Of what, he hadn’t exactly been sure. Pain, that was one thing. Pain was hilarious, objectively. Fear, though? No, he didn’t like that. Not one bit. And what was worse, unlike the pain, it didn’t dissipate at the moment he crossed the threshold between life and death. It had lingered, like the smell of mold, like a bad stain, like the growing feeling that nothing was ever going to be okay again. 

 

 

“ _ Heya Maitlands, how’s it hanging? Long time no live, amiright?  _ Ugh, no.  _ What’s up, sexy? Miss me?  _ Nope, not going to win you any points in your favor.  _ Hi Babs, how’s the whole being dead thing going for you? Cuz it’s pretty shitty for me. _ No, no no! Nothing sounds right! Come on brain, old buddy, you can do this. Let’s go. Leeeeet’s go. Leeeeeeeeeeeeeet’s do this nopeIcan’tbye.”

And just like that, he was there on the roof. Just like all those years ago — yes, he had determined that it had been nearly five years since he’d been to hell and not come back. The blink of an eye for him, just like he’d always said. Maybe if he just sat there long enough someone would either find him or he’d extra-die of boredom and leave. Yeah, that would be nice.

He heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Welp, no such luck. Beetlejuice ran a hand over his face and sighed — the footsteps stopped mid-stride and he turned around reluctantly. 

The faint smile that crossed his lips was not mirrored by the figure in front of him. But what else had he expected?

“...Hey Lydia. Remember me?”

Stupid question, but he had been caught off-guard by her. Not for the first time, either. She always was full of surprises. Beetlejuice looked back on those days fondly, but not without a grain of salt. She  _ had _ killed him, taking away the first true happiness he had ever felt and the thing he had always wanted, betraying what he had assumed to be a beautiful friendship — ah, but he’d fucked that up too, hadn’t he?

The whole, getting married thing.

See, Beetlejuice had learned a thing or two about humanity in his time in the Netherworld. People, when alive, don’t think. Sure, their brains work to some degree and they process the world around them to a varying extent, but they don’t really  _ think _ about the things that matter. Mortality, the essence of being, what it means to exist and live a worthy life or some garbage like that. Actually, he hadn’t really learned that from the Netherworld. He’d read that in a book written by some dead guy who he was pretty sure he’d tortured once upon a time. Fun stuff! What he  _ had _ learned from the Netherworld was that living people see the world differently than the dead do. Everything is so much smaller. They live in their own little bubbles and they take things really, really personally. Anything that deviates from the norm, from what they’re used to, they reject. Dead people, demons, ghosts, underage marriage, underage marriage to a dead demon ghost guy, the whole shebang.

So he’d been a little pushy, so what? It’s not like it meant anything. Sure, he’d  _ liked _ Lydia. She was fun. A good pal. And yeah, being loved and being  _ in _ love was something even he’d admit he’d been curious about. But that’s what the Maitlands were for. Not his teenage BFF. It was strictly a green-card thing. She was simply the only one who was single and who could tolerate him enough to consider the deal. 

He’d assumed everyone understood that. But the old bait-and-switch aside, it seemed he had a  _ lot  _ left to learn about the nature of the living.

“Obviously, I remember you.” Hm, she didn’t say his name. He hadn’t really expected her to, not that saying it once would do shit. But best to be cautious. Smart girl. “Why are you hanging out on our roof?”

Oh boy, this was all so familiar. Fucking wild. “How didja know I was up here?” he asked in return, blatantly ignoring her own question. Luckily, she took the bait, or else she didn’t care about getting a real answer.

“You were monologing really loudly, and my window was open.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

There was silence. Painful, stretched out silence, and neither of their faces betrayed even a hint of what they were thinking. 

“Lydia, I’m—”

And then she was all but running to him, arms flinging around his torso in an attempt to — what, hug him? Beetlejuice stumbled back a step or two, and Lydia skidded to a halt as she realized that she’d passed right through him. She stared down at her hands for a moment, and he coughed. “Welp, this is awkward.”

“Ghosts can’t affect the world of the living,” she said quietly, sounding like she was reciting from a book. Which, technically, she was. “You told me that. And— you’re—”

“A ghost again, yep. A real, incorporeal ghost, not really existing in your world. And you’re still just a girl so strange and unusual you can see me.” He let out a quiet laugh, suddenly much more subdued than usual. “So nothing’s changed, huh?”

Lydia shook her head, eyes wide, like she still couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “No, Beetlejuice… everything’s changed.”

Hm, he didn’t like that. He took another step back away from her, hands raised defensively. “Heh, well, let’s make a few things clear. First - ever since you ran me through with that statue, I’ve lost all physical matter. Which means no touching, no hugging, no anything. Got it, babe?” She nodded in understanding, and Beetlejuice crossed his arms, continuing on. “Second - I’m not interested in getting you or anyone else here to say my name. It’s nothing personal, I’d love to been seen again proper, but I’m just not willing to take the risk of being murdered again. You understand.”

Her expression shifted into something more guilty, and with a sense of badly contained glee, Beetlejuice started to wonder if he might be able to get away without apologizing after all.

“I understand,” Lydia agreed. “But you know why I did it. It was  _ nothing personal.” _

Beetlejuice snorted. “Oh babe, I  _ know _ it was personal. And I deserved it. No hard feelings.” There. That was good enough. 

There was another lull of silence after that, neither one of them quite knowing what to do now. Then finally, Lydia gestured back toward the open window she’d come from. “Why don’t you come in? It’s cold out.”

“Ghosts don’t get cold, kid.”

“ _ I’m  _ the one who’s cold, you jerk.”  _ Oh. Right _ . There was something playful in her voice as she started to climb back inside. “And I’m not exactly a kid anymore. You’ve been gone a while. We should talk about that.”

An eyebrow was quirked as Beetlejuice simply phased through the wall and slammed the window shut with a wave of his hand once they were both inside. He floated cross-legged in the air as Lydia sat down on the edge of her bed. “You keep saying shit like that as if it’s my fault I was forcibly ejected from this plane of existence.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Lydia glanced up at him, looking like she wanted to smile, her face not allowing it.

Beetlejuice simply gave a grunt of acknowledgement before replying in a much quieter tone. “Yeah. Me too.”

That seemed to catch Lydia’s attention, as if she was trying to make sense of his apology. “What are you sorry for?”

A long drawn out groan — Beetlejuice sighed and let himself flip over in midair so he was hanging upside down, as if that would somehow alleviate the frustration of being forced to drag out this apology. “Don’t make me say it again, kid.”

“Seriously, I don’t know what you think you have to apologize for. I’ve… been thinking about it a lot. You were just trying to live.” Lydia was being… uncharacteristically gentle, and Beetlejuice didn’t like it one bit. It was definitely a trick, or a game, or she had some ulterior motive, and he wasn’t falling for it. Unless it was about owning up to your mistakes because that was a game two could play.

“Just trying to live, and murder people. Can’t forget that part.” The grin he gave her was sly and feral — whatever had convinced her that he suddenly wasn’t as horrible a person as she’d thought he was back then was dumb. He hadn’t changed. He just acknowledged that the things he’d done weren’t that great. Didn’t mean he was planning on not doing them in the future, mostly, probably. “Besides, babes, in case you forgot, I was creepy and manipulative. Plus if you recall, we were married, technically, for about thirty seconds.”

Lydia went cold. Her expression seemed to go blank, hands gripping the edge of the bed until her knuckles went white. The sudden change in demeanor was enough to startle Beetlejuice, and he flipped back upright and landed on the floorboards, taking one, then two paces toward her. “Uh — you alright there? Ya look a little pale.”

“Why’d you bring that up?” Her voice wavered, and he paused, scratching his nose in confusion. 

“What, the marriage thing? I mean, that was part of it, right? Me, the ‘creepy old guy’ — your words, not mine — demanding that some teenage girl marry me?” He shrugged. “If you have a problem with it, add it to the list of reasons why I definitely have shit to apologize for so I can say sorry and move on. I hate that word. It feels all weird and sticky in my mouth. Oh, wait, no, that’s the mustard from lunch, nevermind.” He stuck his tongue out, scraping at it with a hand. Gross as ever, but to Lydia’s credit, she didn’t even flinch. Man, this girl was real messed up, huh?

“I did agree to it, though…” Lydia didn’t sound convinced, and Beetlejuice wanted to scream. Why was she making this so hard?

“Yeah, as part of a plan to kill me, because I was trying to force you into it.” This really wasn’t doing anything for him, it was literally just torture. Was this the real punishment for a millenium of sins? God, he would rather be stabbed through the chest again. 

“But I—”

That was it. He  _ couldn’t _ do this anymore. They were dancing around the real subject, there were obviously so many issues they needed to work out, and as much as he’d rather not talk about them, that was preferable to whatever this bullshit was.

“Lydia, what the hell are we doing?” He came and sat next to her on the bed, flopping over on his back. She turned to him with some surprise and tucked her knees up to her chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting real fucking weird, and it’s making me uncomfortable.” Ah. Yeah… he heard how that sounded. Okay, point taken. STILL though — “I get we’re still doing the whole strange and unusual thing, but can we talk like normal people for a sec? Because there’s something I’m missing here.”

Lydia shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean, Beetlejuice.” Oh, it was so nice to hear his name said aloud again, even if only once. His eyes closed. 

“Ugh! Fine, I’ll — Jesus, I’ll try to explain, I guess, whatever.” He ran a hand through his hair, which had long since returned to its usual frizzled state. “I haven’t had a lot to do these last few years. Which means I’ve been thinking. And I really hate thinking. It’s stupid and for nerds and losers, but I realized some stuff, I guess. About people. I realized that as fun as it is to trick and torture and manipulate and murder… it’s not really cool to do that to your friends.”

He opened his eyes, only to meet her gaze. He stared at her intently, surprised when she looked away. “You still see me as your friend?”

“What? God, no.” Beetlejuice laughed, shaking his head. “I think the friendship pact got broken about a dozen different ways five years ago. But we were. And I was a real douche to you.”

“Oh.” Huh, that seemed to bother her more than he expected. He  _ almost _ felt bad. “I don’t think I would’ve liked you so much if you hadn’t been such an awful person.” She threaded and unthreaded her fingers together — a little tell he had picked up on from humans, a sign that they were nervous or uncomfortable. “You were the kind of friend I wanted — needed — back then, as messed up as that sounds. So I guess that’s why there’s no hard feelings.” 

Somehow, he was fairly certain there was another reason too. 

“And what about now? Would you still want a friend like me?”

Lydia paused. The silence was actually starting to worry him, for reasons he couldn’t explain. When she spoke, it was with another question, rather than an answer. “Did you ever actually have feelings for me?”

His eyebrows must’ve shot up comically to his hairline, utterly taken aback. “Uh, you mean like, friend feelings? Cuz yeah, obviously. I was lonely as shit and you were really fun to be around.”

“No.” Her gaze was piercing, searching his face for something that he wasn’t sure she would find. “I mean romantic feelings.”

Beetlejuice coughed — a loud, hacking sound that sounded more like he was choking or dying (believable if he wasn’t already dead), and stared at her like she’d just turned into a sandworm.

“Uhhhhhhhh… no?????”

He must’ve looked like an idiot the way he was looking at her, absolutely stunned. Of all the things she could’ve asked, he was  _ not _ expecting that.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re real cute, in like, the weird, living-girl, sister I never had way. But there is  _ literally _ no way in hell I would ever think of you like that. I mean, I thought I was pretty clear. It was one hundred percent a green card thing. Getting me a ticket to the world of the living. We totally would’ve gotten divorced right after too, if you hadn’t  _ stabbed me with bad art!” _

…

“ANYWAY. Not bitter at all, babe.” He flashed her a cheshire grin. “No grudges, no hard feelings, no feelings at all. So you don’t gotta worry about that. I ain’t changed that much, but you made your point with the creepy old guy thing. No leering from me. I’ll save that for the Maitlands. How are they, anyway? Still a pair of sexy bores? Nevermind, don’t answer that.”

Lydia stretched out on her stomach, watching him curiously. “Didn’t you say you were lonely, though? You literally wouldn’t shut up about the concept of being in love and how you wanted that.”

Huh. The more he thought back on it, the more he realized how desperate he had been — for any recognition. Realistically, he hadn’t been interested in a romantic relationship with Lydia. Of course not. But it had been a weight off his chest, he had actually felt happy. The idea that someone actually cared about him, saw him as anything other than the demon he was, had been revitalizing. Everyone fussing over him, the adoration (even if it was fake), he’d been swept up in it. It  _ was  _ everything he’d ever wanted, but it still wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. Beetlejuice shook his head as if to free himself from the memories.

“Wow Lydia, way to bring up a sensitive subject. Anyway, sure, I want that. Who doesn’t? But I also want to kill a bunch of people, and that’s a million times easier than getting someone to fall in love with me.” Beetlejuice shrugged. He didn’t enjoy this conversation very much, but it could’ve been worse. “Pretty sure it’s not meant to be. I’ll take a good friend and a few sexy ghosts to flirt with.” Now she was watching him intently, and he felt his skin prickle in a very uncomfortable way. He didn’t like where this was going at all. “Honestly, relationships seem like a pain in the asshole to deal with, literally, so I’ll pass. What about you, babes? You’re like… twelve now? Got anyone special in your life?” His tone was teasing, but not in an unfriendly way. Lydia scoffed at him.

“I’m  _ twenty-two _ — stop laughing, you’re  _ awful _ , I know you know how human ages work.” And there it was — she finally laughed too, despite herself, holding back an amused giggle that sounded so foreign to Beetlejuice he almost didn’t think it came from her. 

“Maybe I don’t. Time passes differently when you’re dead.” Now it was obvious that he was kidding, and somehow, this almost felt normal for them. It was nice, for the moment. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“...” Lydia sighed. “No. I’m still not exactly a master of social interaction. People still think I’m strange. I  _ am  _ strange. I don’t make an effort to connect with people, and no one tries with me either. I like it that way.”

“Seriously?” Beetlejuice couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re actively avoiding making friends? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Well, it hasn’t exactly been easy since you left—”

“Died—”

“And as happy as me and Dad and Delia are, I guess, things still suck a lot. And that’s  _ your _ fault!” Now she was starting to sound angry. Finally, an emotion he could work with! “You came into our lives and stirred things up and then you left—”

“You  _ killed _ me—”

“And I’ve been a fucking mess ever since. Don’t you get it, Beetlejuice? I  _ missed _ you so much, all I wanted was for you to come back! Oh, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Be—”

He stood up then, rising to his full ghostly height and towering over her menacingly. 

“Don’t finish that sentence. God, I can’t believe I’m actually stopping her from saying my name, what the hell is wrong with me? Whatever. Lydia Deetz, do  _ not _ conjure me back. I have no desire to be in your physical world again.” Now, he was just starting to look tired. Weary. Huh. This had really taken a turn he wasn’t expecting at all. And it seemed the surprises weren’t over yet.

“Don’t you understand, Beetlejuice? I can barely make friends, you… well, frankly, I don’t know how you haven’t found someone yet, you have no standards whatsoever. But you’re a self-proclaimed unlovable freak.”

“Not sure I said that, but go on.” This would be interesting.

“We’re the perfect team. A perfect match.”

“Hm. If you had said that before, things might’ve gone a little differently.” He smirked, but his brow was creased, concerned.

“Well, people change.”

Yeah. People change. Not him, though. And he didn’t like the changes she was implying either. “What are you getting at, Lydia? Spit it out.” 

It felt like her eyes were boring into him, like he was being scrutinized. “We could try.” She let out her breath in a huff. “My life is weird enough, you’d hardly be the strangest part about it. You could be corporeal again, we wouldn’t be so lonely…” Her voice had taken on a pleading tone, it was clear to him that she was desperate. Five years ago, he would’ve given anything to be in this position. It would be so easy to manipulate her like this. But now, it seemed wrong. He felt… disgusted by the very idea.

“No.” Beetlejuice stood up abruptly. Lydia looked at him, startled by the suddenness of his answer. “No, absolutely not. I can’t believe you’re even suggesting something like that. It’s too creepy and weird, even for me. You’re a kid.”

“That didn’t stop you before. And I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Babe, I’ve been around more than a millenium. Everyone under the age of two hundred is a kid to me.” He smirked, but his heart just wasn’t in the joke. “The point is, in the time you spent supposedly growing up and suddenly not being a kid anymore, I’ve been sitting on my ass in the Netherworld, reflecting on my questionable choices. People change, like you said. I’d never call myself a good person, but I know gross when I see it. Obviously.” He gestured to himself, the wry grin sneaking back in. 

“You keep flirting with me, though.”

He rolled his eyes. “I flirt with everyone, sweetheart. It’s what I do. It’s, as the kids would say, a ‘ _ coping mechanism for my crippling depression’ _ . But come on. You don’t think that means I actually want Adam’s ghost dick up my asshole. And I’m  _ not _ interested in you either.” He sighed, scratching his beard pensively. “Besides, you deserve better than... this.” 

And then — god, would you believe it? — she started  _ crying _ .

“I just don’t want you to go away again.”  _ Oh boy _ . “I’ve lost so much. You’re the only one who understands me. I just — I just want my best friend back.” She stood up, and before he could process what was happening… “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice—”

“Lydia, no!”

“—Beetlejuice!”

_ Ah. _

Thin arms were suddenly thrown around his torso, Lydia’s head buried in his chest, and the only thing he could think is how she was going to get dirt all over herself. But she wasn’t letting him go, so after a minute he closed his arms around her, giving her back a little pat. “Alright, alright. That’s enough hugging.” He gently detached her, holding her an arm’s length away by the shoulders. “You’re a strange girl, Lydia.”

She laughed, still sniffling a bit. “Why, thank you.”

“I promise I won’t disappear on ya again, as long as you don’t kill me. And no more weird romance-y stuff from either of us, flirting included.” Beetlejuice laughed, starting to feel a little more like his old self again. “Sound fair, babe?”

Lydia raised her eyebrows. “How is calling me  _ babe _ not flirting?”

He gave her a gasp of mock-offense. “Come on now, I call everyone that! It’s more gender-neutral and classier than ‘dude’ or ‘man’. Don’t be so sensitive.”

“ _ That’s _ classy?”

“Well, your definition of classy might differ from mine, but—” he trailed off as he saw her holding back a laugh. Yeah, he’d missed this. “Alright, very funny. We cool?” He extended his hand to her, and she shook it firmly.

“We’re cool.”

“Good.” He raised her hand to his lips — “For old time’s sake,” Then vanished with a  _ poof _ . He had some Maitlands to visit.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no clue if anyone is going to read this, but if you did, thanks! I'm not totally happy with it, especially Lydia's dialogue, but I was kinda done editing it. So you can have it as is. You can find me on twitter or tumblr as transpapyrus. If you didn't like the fic for whatever reason, I don't wanna hear it. If you ship Beetlejuice/Lydia and are offended by this... idk what to tell you, but I don't wanna hear it either.


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